Come Play with Me
by Callisto-HK
Summary: First Sam's seeing things; then Dean is seeing them, as well! Could it be real? because if it is, then they are going to face a brand new kind of challenge; something that could be interlaced with their past. /Set in S11. Rated T for Language
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: This one takes place during season 11, but other than a reference to the general SL and some minor stuff, the story won't contain many spoilers._**

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 **. Come Play With Me .**

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"Come play with me!"

"What?"

"What what?"

"Huh?"

"Sam?"

"What?"

"What the hell's going on there? You alright?" Dean sounded worried over the phone.

"What? Yes!"

"Then what the hell is going on?"

Sam had a hard time concentrating on his brother's voice since his attention was drawn to the little boy who was sitting in the corner of the room, looking at him innocently with bright green eyes and had he really just asked him to go play with him? And just who the hell was that kid and where had he come from! He was too small to be on his own and-

"Sam!" Dean's roar coming from the phone stopped his train of thoughts.

"Dean, umm... There... There's a little boy here."

"A what?"

"A little boy. Can't be older than 5!" Sam said, still eyeing the little boy, unsure what to do.

"A real boy?"

"What do you mean a real boy?"

"Sam! Focus, goddammit! Get the hell outta that room if you're that out of it."

"I'm not out of it."

Dean took a breath and it was clear he was trying to calm his nerves down. "It could be anything, Sam! Did you make sure it's a real boy?"

"Oh!"

"Yeah, Oh!"

"I'll... I'll just make sure." He put his phone down on the table and took the flask of holy water out of his breast pocket, slowly approaching the little boy, a hand on his gun, ready to shoot if it turned out to be a creature and not a real boy. Just as he got close enough to throw water, the boy disappeared and not just like when a ghost disappears, it was just different! A moment he was there and the next he wasn't; like he'd never been there; like it was all a figment of Sam's imagination.

Shaking his head, he went back to the table and grabbed his phone. "Dean?"

"You alright? What's going on? I'm on my way! I'll be there in 2." Dean said rapidly, showing that he was concerned for his brother's well-being.

"It's gone!"

"It's gone? So it wasn't a real boy?" Just as Dean said those words, the sound of tires screeching outside the motel room signaled that he'd arrived; seconds later, the older Winchester rushed inside the room that was their crime scene, gun drown and ready to shoot.

"Wow, you're fast." Sam sounded bemused.

"Did that thing touch you? Did it do anything to you?" Dean grabbed his brother's shoulder the second he made sure they were alone in the room.

Shaking Dean's hand off, Sam made a face. "Dean, I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." Dean retorted.

"Really! I'm OK. I'm just kinda confused. Right now, I'm not even sure that the boy had really been there or I had just imagined it."

"What did it do?" Dean frowned.

"Nothing. Just said _come play with me_."

"What?" Dean frowned.

"Yeah." Sam shrugged. "I was talking to you and then this little voice said 'come play with me'. When I turned towards it, there was a little boy in that corner; he was 4, maybe 5; blond hair and real green eyes."

"Huh! And then it disappeared?"

"Yup."

"So, a ghost?"

"I don't know. Didn't feel like one."

"No?"

"No! The temperature didn't drop and it didn't disappear like ghosts do, you know?"

"Hmm." Dean scratched his head and brought the EMF meter out of his pocket and checked the room. Nothing.

"Something was familiar about the boy." Sam continued talking. "Like I've seen him somewhere?"

"Could it be related to a case? Like a victim you've seen pictures of?"

"I don't know. But why would something related to another case show up here? Because with only one victim we haven't seen many pictures here." Sam shook his head. "Let's get outta here. I can look more into this guy's past; see if there's a little boy related to him or something."

"Or maybe something happened to him when he was a child."

"Yeah. That, too."

"Still, doesn't explain why the EMF meter didn't show anything." Dean pointed out.

"Maybe I really imagined it."

And that's what Dean thought, too. "You need some rest, man."

Sam just sighed, he _was_ tired after all, but not to the point where he'd see things. But he couldn't explain what he'd seen any other way, so he just kept quiet.

...

"Come play with me!"

"Dean?" Sam called, sounding urgent but not loud; the little boy was once again in front of him and this time in their own room.

Dean quickly walked out of the bathroom as he heard Sam's tone of voice, but just as he followed his brother's gaze and his eyes landed on the lonely figure of a little boy, the boy was gone. Dean didn't have time to see it long enough to say what the boy looked like, but now he couldn't put it to Sam's imagination. There really was something going on.

"You saw it, right? Tell me that you saw it, too! It was right there." Sam asked frantically.

"Wow." Dean blinked with confusion. "Vanished just as I got here."

"But you saw it. Right?"

"Well, I sure saw _something_."

"Damn! How did it get here? It couldn't be a ghost."

"No. With the protection lines and symbols we've put around here, it couldn't be anything but a real boy which would be the case if he hadn't vanished into thin air." Dean frowned. "Could it be an angel?"

"Why would an angel want us to play with him?" Sam sounded skeptic. "And why would it possess a little boy's body?"

"Maybe it's a little angel?" Dean grinned.

"And who's created it? God's gone AWOL in case you've forgotten." Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean raised his brow. "What? Angels can die and do practically everything else, but they can't have sex and create babies like every other normal being?"

"You're saying _normal_!"

Dean looked thoughtful for a second and then shrugged. "Point."

"So?"

"Don't know, man. We can't both imagine the same thing. So can't be imagination. Could it be a fairy?"

Sam shrugged. "He looked familiar."

"Wouldn't know. Didn't see it long enough."

Sam turned around and was about to say something, but then closed his mouth and stared as his brother.

"What?" Dean inquired.

"His eyes..."

"Yeah?"

"His eyes were just like yours."

"They were green?" Dean asked like he was talking to a small child.

"Just like yours; maybe that's why it looked so familiar."

"Huh." Dean flopped down onto his bed. "Well, that gets us nowhere."

"No." Sam said absently, still trying to figure out why the boy looked so familiar.

"Come play with me."

Both men jumped and turned towards the corner behind the table; the little boy was back, looking at them with those innocent green eyes which were filled with so much pain that Sam could actually feel it.

"Please."

Both Dean and Sam stood there transfixed until the boy sighed and disappeared again.

Sam snapped out of it first. "Dammit." He cursed himself for being so mesmerized that after 3 times, he still hadn't done anything. But to his defense, this time, the pain in the little boy's eyes had put so much pressure on him that it'd taken his breath away.

Turning to his brother, he suddenly became alert; Dean looked pale and his widened eyes were still fixed on the spot where the little boy had been moments ago. Checking to see if the boy was really gone and finding the corner empty, Sam walked to his brother and tentatively grabbed his arm. "Dean?"

Dean's jaw moved, but no sound came out.

"Hey! Dean!" Sam shook him harder.

When Dean's eyes finally moved from the empty spot and turned to Sam, he sighed. "You with me? What was that about?"

"That..." Dean sounded hoarse. "Sam, it's me."

"What?" Sam frowned; Dean wasn't making any sense.

"That little boy. It was me. When I was 5." Dean clarified; his voice still quiet and tinged with shock.

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 **TBC**

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 _ **A/N: So, what do you think?  
**_

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 **I don't own the show and its characters and all mistakes are mine.**


	2. Chapter 2

_"That..." Dean sounded hoarse. "Sam, it's me."_

 _"What?" Sam frowned; Dean wasn't making any sense._

 _"That little boy. It was me. When I was 5." Dean clarified; his voice still quiet and tinged with shock._

* * *

Sam's hand dropped from Dean's arm and his eyes widened. Dean was right; that was why the boy looked so familiar; it was Dean when he was little and Sam had only seen him in the couple of pictures they had from back then, because he'd been too young to remember his older brother at 5!

"What the-" he breathed shakily.

Dean looked pretty shocked himself as he heavily landed back on his bed.

Sam sat on the opposite bed, completely lost. "Why... I mean... why would-" He couldn't find the right words for the thoughts that were invading his mind.

"I know." Dean nodded. "And... I'm pretty sure I never asked anyone to come play with me." He winced. "So that doesn't make sense."

"Shit. This is bad, Dean. This is bad."

"Well; yeah." Dean rolled his eyes. "We don't even know why we're seeing it or how he comes and goes."

"Or why he looked so pained and burdened."

Dean's eyes darkened; he knew the answer to that particular question.

Sam suddenly got it from Dean's look. "It's about the time when you lost Mom, isn't it?"

" _We_ " Dean sighed. "We lost Mom. And yeah. Well, a bit older. Guess it was around the time when I'd just started talking again. Dad had started hunting. Looked kinda around that time." Even the memory of those days was still painful; after so many years, he still couldn't really talk about it.

"Well, that explains the look." Sam commented quietly, his heart aching for the pain that he'd seen in the boy's eyes; the boy that now he knew was his brother, which meant that Dean had been feeling and carrying that kind of pain around even when he had been so little.

Heck, he still could see that pain, _well, much heavier now_ , in Dean's eyes when he was too tired to hide it completely; because Dean always hid it to some degrees, no matter what; but when he'd been so small, with what he'd been through, it must've been impossible to hide everything. Suddenly, Sam realized that compared to his brother, he'd experienced a pretty normal childhood; despite everything that he'd wished for when he'd been a kid, he'd never felt the kind of pain that Dean had when he was a little boy. Dean had shielded him from almost everything as much as he could and as _long_ as he could, but nobody had done the same for _him_ and Sam hated himself for never realizing how harder things had been for Dean and always whining about his own ruined childhood when Dean always kept quiet about his broken heart and soul and the literally ruined childhood and innocence.

"Man, what the hell is going on here?" Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly, putting a halt on Sam's train of thoughts. "Guess we gotta go back and find new people to interview about the victim. None of those we talked to gave us anything useful."

"You think it's related to our case?"

"What else could it be?"

"Um, I don't know, but we aren't exactly where we were some years ago; more than one thing could be messing with our head."

"Like what? Angels? Demons? I think they've got their hands full with the whole Darkness thing."

"Exactly; they could be messing with us _because_ they blame us for that."

"We've always been blamed for every shit that has happened in the world; they always show themselves when they wanna mess with us or show us how mad at us they are."

"It's just a guess, Man. I'm just saying we gotta cover all the bases."

"And I say we start with the case we have in hand. That's the most logical explanation."

"Apparently Jonathon had always been a loner." Sam referred to their victim. "Who do you think could give us any information that'd give us a hint about this?"

"You got a better idea?"

"I don't know; maybe we could start with the obvious question; _'why you'_?"

"That wasn't me!"

"It was, Dean; you said it yourself."

"I never asked anyone to play with me. That thing can't be me."

"Well, just because you stopped playing or never asked anyone, doesn't mean that deep down you couldn't have felt the desire."

"I didn't feel the desire for years. Believe me, I know." Dean said, sounding cold and drained.

The younger man hid a grimace at the implication. "I don't know; maybe it wasn't _you_ you. You know? It could be your ghost. Although... It didn't seem like a ghost... So, time traveler?" Sam suggested, sounding like he was thinking aloud. "I mean he could've moved in time accidentally." He shrugged.

"Sam, I'm _right_ here; so that thing is _definitely_ not _my_ ghost! And it can't be me time traveling accidentally or shit like that; because if that was the case, _again_ , I wouldn't be asking anyone to _play_ with me! I'd be worried sick about where baby Sammy could be because I never let you out of my sight when we were kids. I'd be doing everything possible for a little boy to find Sammy or my Dad; not ask two grown-up strangers to play with me. And let's not mention how creepy it is when he repeats the same sentence over and over again. So, if that was another me coming from the past, and assuming I was a little creepy when I was a kid, then I'd keep saying 'where's Sammy?' not ' _play with me_!"

And wasn't that just sad? And heartbreaking and everything synonymous to that? Sam felt the familiar tightness in his chest again. Dean wouldn't ask to play with someone; he'd ask for _Sammy_! He'd be worried for him! Like he'd been every single day of their lives.

"Umm, maybe it's from an alternative universe." He suggested further; trying to stop the chain of thoughts that Dean's revelation had caused. "I mean, maybe in that universe he's alone... Like maybe there's no Sammy or-"

"What, like there's no one?" Dean smirked bitterly and went quiet for a couple of seconds. "No, again I wouldn't be asking people to play with me."

"Why not?" Sam was losing it.

"Because if I'd lost _every_ one, I'd be dead, too." Dean deadpanned and he sounded so sure and serious that Sam couldn't even question the possibility of it. Dean might not be able to fight the evil back then and he sure wouldn't know any ways to bring his family back; but if he'd lost everyone, he probably wouldn't have survived himself, either; he'd always loved them too much.

Swallowing with some difficulty, Sam tried something else. "Well, maybe in that universe Dean hasn't lost anyone! Maybe he's just accidentally thrown into this universe."

Dean blinked with confusion. "Seriously, Sam; what normal kid would walk around and ask people to play with them if that was the case? Any kid would just sit in a corner and cry for their Mommy and Daddy!"

 _'Huh; Dean did have a point.'_ Sam thought.

"And let's not forget that the thing disappeared right before our eyes! It can't be a real thing; time traveling or anything from an alternate universe."

"Well, maybe..." He was running out of ideas. "I don't know, man, maybe this Dean is hurt and alone and just wants someone to play with him; maybe because you had to grow up too fast, it feels lonely and needs to play with someone."

"What? Like that thing's my inner child? What the hell is it doing _out_ of me then?"

"Your inner child! Dean, that must be it!" Sam suddenly sounded thrilled.

"First of all, turn down the excitement." Dean rolled his eyes. "What's so great about it? Even if it is my inner child, and we don't know if it is, how does it help us? Besides, I repeat; what's it doing outside me? And why do _you_ see it?"

"OK, fair." Sam nodded. "But we gotta start with something."

"We can start with nothing!" Dean said. "That way we can check every possibility instead of wasting our time on just one scenario."

"Well, umm, you said we gotta talk to more people about our victim's death. Let's do that. See if we can find anything that way."

"Back to the crime scene?"

"Back to the crime scene."

"In the meantime, if you see that... Um..."

"Little you?"

"That _thing_ " Dean emphasized, "instead of staring at it or approaching it, just ask questions. Huh?"

"Yeah. OK." Sam thought that he could at least try; hopefully, this time he wouldn't be so fazed.

"Also, be prepared. It doesn't matter that that kid is freakin' handsome because it looks like me; you shoot it; stab it; behead it; do whatever you need to stop it if it moves the wrong way. Got it?"

Sam made a face. "Wow, no wonder your inner child looks so lonely."

Glaring at his brother, Dean said, "it's not my _anything_ unless it's proved otherwise."

"Fine. I get it."

"Good." Dean nodded as they got into the car and headed to the motel where Jonathon Crane's body had been found. He sure hoped it wasn't anything evil, that little thing that looked just like him; because despite what he'd said, he didn't like the idea of something with his childhood form being a menace, somehow that'd make _him_ feel responsible.

"And Dean?" Sam's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You were so cute when you were a kid."

"Shut up." Dean retorted, but the grin on his face took the edge of his harsh words. "Handsome; I've always been _handsome_."

Sam's laugh, momentary, lightened the atmosphere in their car.

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 **TBC**

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 _ **A/N: Let me know what you think.**_

 **Thanks for your comments, everyone. Hope you like the way things are developing.**

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 **I don't own the show and its characters and all mistakes are mine.**


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours later, they were still no closer to the mystery of the small child they were seeing and despite the hints they'd given around, no one showed any signs that they knew what had happened to Jonathon or if that case was related to the mysterious child.

"This is ridiculous. Nobody knows anything."

"Uh, hello?"

Both boys turned around as someone called out to them.

"Hi." They said in unison.

"Umm, are you the agents working on Johnny's death?" The woman sounded uncertain.

"Yes," Dean took out his badge and introduced himself. "We haven't met you around here before."

"No. No. I don't live here. I was actually in town to visit my parents."

"So," Sam started but realized they didn't know who the woman was.

"Shauna." She helped. "Shauna Lang."

"So, Ms. Lang. Did you know Johnny well?" Sam asked with a reassuring smile, using the nickname she'd used for the victim.

A sad smile found its way to the corner of her mouth. "Yes, we used to date a few years back. But then I got a job offer in D.C. and well, things ended between us."

Sharing a look with Sam, Dean asked the next question. "Can you tell us anything that'd help us? We need anything that we could get."

"I don't know; you've probably heard everything I know already. I mean this is a small town and people know each other pretty well. Johnny's..." She winced when she remembered her friend was dead. " _had_ spent his whole life here and he'd always been a bit... Um, let's say reserved. He had a house, but he rarely went there anymore. He owned this motel so he spent all his time here. I met with him a few days ago and tried to make him leave this place and have some fun. But he refused. To think about it, he was even more withdrawn this time around."

That caught the boys' attention. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said, he was always quiet. But never around me; it's true that we've broken up, but we were still pretty close and every time I was in town, he'd go out with me and we'd share some news over a few drinks. But this time-" She shook her head sadly, "This time he wouldn't leave, no matter how hard I tried. He seemed depressed. When I first heard about his death and since they hadn't officially said what had caused it, I thought he'd killed himself and couldn't help blame myself. But when I talked to the sheriff this morning and she mentioned you guys, I realized it must've been a homicide. I just don't understand who'd want to kill Johnny. Really, no one would have a motive; so I thought maybe you could help me understand."

"Can you tell us about his past? His childhood?" Sam asked; which earned him a frown from Dean.

The question seemed odd to Shauna, but she shrugged and replied. "Ah, he lost both his parents when he was a small boy. So, he lived with his grandma and even she passed away when he was 16. My parents were close friends of his family, so they took care of him until he was 18 and then he decided he was old enough to run the motel himself. His parents were the original owners of this place."

"So, he didn't have a happy childhood." Sam concluded.

"Um, no. I guess not." She shook her head. "What has that got anything to do with his death, though?"

"We just need to know everything." Dean smiled. "Ah, this might sound odd, but did you notice anything weird when you saw him last?"

"Weird how?"

"Anything really. You mentioned he was different." Sam helped. "So, did you notice any other strange thing? Did he mention anything to you? A child maybe?"

"A child?"

They both nodded and pretty much held their breaths.

"I..." She looked suspicious. "Actually _I_ saw a child. He was at the counter the few times I came here, not always, but most of the times. At first I thought he was the child of one of the guests, but he was always there and he looked awfully familiar. I asked Johnny about him once and... Well, he just paled and then suddenly he got up and left." She winced at the memory. "That was the last time I saw him. When I turned around to talk to the kid, he was gone, too and I had to leave. The next day I heard about Johnny's death."

There. They'd finally found something. Sharing a meaningful look with his brother, Dean asked, "Is there any way you can describe this kid?"

"Is it really related to the case?"

"That's the only thing shared with two other cases we are working on." He lied easily.

"Oh." Her eyes widened. "Why? Why would someone use a kid?"

"We're trying to find out, Ma'am." Sam smiled politely, but urged her to talk. "So, the kid?"

"Ah, like I said, he looked familiar, so I kinda remember that he had blue eyes, black hair and he was probably around 7 or 8. He just looked so sad and lonely. And so quiet. He once asked me to play with him, it was the first time I saw him; like maybe 5 days ago, but I didn't even know the kid and thought maybe he was lost. So I looked around for his parents but nobody was there and when I turned to ask him about them he was gone. I don't understand, how could a kid be involved in a case like this?"

"We can't go into details." Dean said apologetically.

She studied them both and then nodded. "Will you... Will you tell us if you found whoever did this to Johnny? And whether or not you found the kid? It's so cruel to use a kid like that."

"It is. And we'll let you know."

"One more question." Dean said before they could leave. "Can you tell us how old Johnny had been when he lost his parents?"

Shauna frowned again, not getting why they were asking so many questions about his childhood. "Ah, well, 7 when his mother passed away from cancer. About a year later his father died of a heart attack."

"Thank you. You helped us more than you know."

"I hope you find whoever did this. Johnny was a great man. He was lonely and sad, but he was an amazing guy. He didn't deserve this."

"We'll let you know. Thank you for your help."

The boys stood there and watched her leave before they walked to their own car.

At least they were one step closer to solve the mystery of the child. Apparently the victim had seen his own inner child before death and if that was the case, Dean could be the next victim. Wasn't it just their luck that they'd picked this case even though they weren't sure it was their kind of job in the beginning? The fact that they didn't have anything else to work on and that the body had had dried blood in his eyes and on his cheeks had pushed them to look at it as a case; and so they'd decided to drive to this small town to see if there was anything supernatural going on.

Of course, later they learned more about the victim that confirmed their suspicions; for instance, the poor bastard's heart had been squeezed while still in his chest which was something that they found out about _after_ they got the case from the local sheriff, causing them to stick around.  
Now, it was clear that whatever was happening here had something to do with people who were carrying a great deal of pain around and had grown up pretty quickly; apparently with their inner child upset with them.

One case usually wasn't enough for them to make that kind of judgment, but the fact that Dean shared those traits with their victim seemed to be enough of a reason to make a conclusion. Now if only they knew how that inner child was involved or how it even got out to find a rather corporeal form; it'd be perfect!

They also needed to know if the child was killing the victim or something else was involved.

They had a lot of questions and so little time. They needed to act fast; before Dean became the next victim.

"We need to get back to Johnston's house." Sam said as he sat in the car and only then did he realize that Dean hadn't gotten in yet. Opening his door, he left the car again to see what was holding his brother and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Dean with his head and one arm on the roof of the car and the other hand clutching his chest.

"DEAN!" He shouted and ran around the car to get to his brother; he came to an abrupt halt when he saw the little boy, Dean's inner child, standing some feet away, looking concerned and watching Dean with such palpable sadness in his eyes that could make Sam cry if the grunt of pain coming from Dean hadn't averted his attention from the little boy.

He quickly rushed to Dean, even though he knew he should probably talk to the boy. "Dean? Man, what's it? Is it bad?"

"Dammit." Dean slammed a fist against the roof of his beloved car, but pushed him away in a futile attempt to reassure the younger man. "I'm OK."

"Yeah, right!" Sam scorned, worry still showing in his eyes.

"Please, play with me."

The small voice startled them both as Dean realized they weren't alone and Sam remembered the boy.

"Who are you? How did you get here? What do you want from Dean?" Sam asked quickly, but when a single tear dropped from the boy's left eye and he just stared at Dean before vanishing, Sam realized that he needed to find another way to approach the boy, or to at least to realize why he kept disappearing.

Dean took a shuddering breath and sank to the ground, his back against the car door.

Shaking himself out of his shock, Sam knelt beside Dean, noticing the drop of blood that had left Dean's left eye, mirroring the tear that had dropped from the little boy's eye.

"I gotcha, Dean. I gotcha."

"Where... Where did he go?" He was still holding his clenched fist against his chest, but his breathing had started to even out.

"Vanished."

"Man! I'm so screwed."

"We'll figure it out." Sam tried to sound more certain than he was feeling, but deep down he was just freaking out. "You better?"

"Yeah." Dean pushed himself up. "You drive, though."

Sam didn't need any more sign to believe that Dean wasn't as alright as he was claiming. "Let's get to Johnathon's house and see if we can find anything." He suggested, knowing that every minute counted.

"Yeah." Dean sighed and walked to the other side of the car. "Hey, do you think we could fool that kid with a pie? It's me after all." He asked, trying to get rid of the tension.

"Pie? I thought you ' _wuved hugz'_ back then!" Sam played along; teasing his brother and referring to the T-shirt that, some years ago, he'd realized Dean had owned as a kid.

Dean smacked him in the chest and growled. "Shut up. Mom loved me to ' _wuv hugz'_."

"Yeah, sure." Sam chuckled and tried to forget their predicament even for a few seconds. Like they weren't in deep enough shit with the whole Darkness thing, things just had to get worse!

Crane's house was the same as it had been the last time the brothers had checked it which had been two days ago; nothing had changed; but this time, they didn't just walk around looking for signs of a ghost and not finding anything. Back then, they knew the guy practically lived in his motel; that if he needed to sleep, he'd just crash in one of the rooms; he barely ever went home; so they hadn't done a thorough search the first time.

This time, though, they were looking for more; a hex bag at the very least or any other sign of a curse or a mojo. They ended up finding a hidden box under the wooden boards covering the floor of his bedroom and the box exactly was what they needed.

Surprisingly, they didn't just find hex bags or witchcraft in the box; there were books on _core issues_ ; _suppressed pains and memories_ ; _dream interpretation_ and every other sort of psychological stuff.

Under all those books, was a small pocket size book of chants and witchcraft.

"Look at this." Sam showed it to his brother.

Grabbing it from the younger man, Dean opened it and looked at the instructions written in it. "Looks old and not the type you find in a public library."

Sam nodded as he, too, looked at the pages as Dean went through them. "Maybe it's belonged to his family or something."

"Doesn't matter really." Dean muttered. "We just need to know what he's done." He threw the book at Sam. "You read this and I'll see what kind of stuff he's got here."

And so they both sat there and started to read and check notes.

Couple of hours later, Sam was so engrossed in the book that his mind wouldn't have registered Dean's gasp if he hadn't heard the quiet _'play with me!'_ that followed it shortly.

The book Dean was reading fell from his hand as he clutched his chest again, but this time, he refused to let the pain take over his brain; locking his gaze with the boy, he gritted out, "What do you want?"

"Play." Came the reply and it was the first time that the boy had actually responded to them, instead of repeating the same sentence like he was stuck in a phase.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I wanna play. I want my Mommy."

Sam winced at the raw emotion in the boy's eyes- _little Dean's eyes_ -, and wished more than anything he could help that little boy.

"Yeah, so do I, kid." Dean scorned.

The little boy suddenly looked angry. "You left me." He screamed.

Dean and Sam recoiled at the tone; Dean's pain intensified in its magnitude, making him feel dizzy and short of breath. "I... What?" He gasped. Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder and cautiously held him, checking his pulse to see how bad his condition was.

"You put me in a cage." The boy screamed loudly; tears streaming down his face and right along with them, blood was running out of Dean's eyes.

"I didn't... I-" Dean said brokenly and not because he was in pain, but because the hurt in the boy's voice and eyes was too hard to take; even Sam was looking heartbroken.

"You left me."

"It wasn't his fault." Sam jumped in, unable to take any more of the pain that was radiating from his brother. "He didn't have a choice."

Sam's voice seemed to have brought the small child out of his trance and a second later he was gone again.

Dean sagged against Sam bonelessly, having no energy left to keep himself upright. "I didn't... Mean to."

"I know, Dean. I know." Sam said sadly. "It'll be over soon."

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 **TBC**

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	4. Chapter 4

_Dean sagged against Sam bonelessly, having no energy left to keep himself upright. "I didn't... Mean to."_

 _"I know, Dean. I know." Sam said sadly. "It'll be over soon."_

* * *

Einstein once said; _'Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.'_ And it was something that the Winchester boys had felt so many times in their lives that it'd become part of their very existence and the ' _soon_ ' that Sam had talked about was another tangible example of that.

To an outsider, someone who hadn't been involved, the couple of days following Sam's statement might've felt like nothing; but to Sam and Dean, to Dean especially, who was suffering both physically and emotionally, having his hand on the hot stove, so to speak, it was feeling like weeks, months even.

During those couple of days, the visits they got from Dean's inner child, or ' _D_ ' as Sam had started to call him- because apparently _'inner child'_ was too long and too detached and because he used to call Dean, 'D' when he'd first started to speak as a toddler-, got longer and more frequent. He wasn't angry anymore. He'd just sit in a corner, staring at them and no matter what they did, he wouldn't talk. They were both at their wits' ends and only had the books they'd found in Jonathon's box to find a way out of that mess or soon, Dean would join the dead man.

Dean was steadily getting worse. Each time D showed up, Dean's heart got weaker and each beat became more painful and Sam could see it clear as a day even though Dean was hiding it as best as he could.

"Look, kid." Dean was talking to the child again and Sam was eyeing them from the corner of his eye while still going through different books and websites in order to find a way to find a solution to their dilemma; because so far, they were sure of one thing and that was that they couldn't kill the kid and secretly both Sam and Dean were happy about it; because no matter what, that little boy wasn't a monster; it was Dean! There was no way they could kill it and pretend like nothing had happened; besides who knew what'd happen to Dean if his inner child was actually dead?

"I know you're mad, hurt and everything else..." Taking a deep breath, Dean massaged his temple. He was having difficulty breathing and the lack of oxygen was worsening his already killer headache. "I'm you. I know how you must be feeling. But you gotta tell us what you want. _That_ I don't know. But I wanna help; Really, I do. So, just tell me why you're doing this, huh? Just that." Saying that, he held his breath and hoped that this time the kid would give them something useful.

"Because you ignored me." The child finally blurted out, his chin and lower lip trembling. "I just wanted to play."

Throwing his hands in the air, Dean growled. "I had a job to do. I didn't have time to play."

"Why?" D screamed, big fat teardrops rolling down his face, and once again, blood started to flow down from Dean's eyes. He'd gotten used to it as D kept showing up and honestly, crying was pretty much all that little thing did.

"Jesus! I never was a whiny kid. There's no way he's _my_ inner child." Gritting his teeth, Dean pushed himself up from the floor where he was sitting by the child's side and walked to the bathroom.

"This is not exactly _you_ when you were a kid." Sam reasoned, as he left his computer and walked to the child who was now looking even more hurt. "Hey, hey, he didn't mean it."

"He did." The child replied. "He hates me."

Sam wanted to deny it, but somehow he wasn't sure it wasn't true. Dean had been forced to grow up too fast, overnight really, and that had pretty much killed his inner child and it might not have been intentional, but he'd ignored his desires and childish needs and on occasions that he hadn't, he'd been severely scolded by their father which had apparently led to Dean caging his inner child for good. So, maybe Dean did hate the kid there. And Sam couldn't help blaming himself and their father for that.

When no response came from Sam, the child got even more upset; as his rage reached a new level, his angry roar brought Sam's attention back to the present. What he saw made him jump and stumble back with shock; the kid was now holding a torch in his hand and was yelling angrily.

Dean quickly left the bathroom and was stunned once his eyes landed on the scene in the room. The pain in his chest had worsened but he totally forgot about it when he saw the torch in D's hand. Taking a step towards the kid, he was about to do something, anything to maybe defuse the situation, but the kid waved the torch in front of him and screamed louder. "I hate you. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU." He kept screaming, and before Dean knew what was happening, he was on the floor, his muscles frozen and feeling like his whole body was on fire.

Sam hurried to his brother's side when the older man collapsed to the floor. He wasn't sure what was happening; all he could see was that Dean seemed to be in a world of agony and like that wasn't bad enough, a moment later his brother started to convulse before his eyes.

The younger man was afraid that it was the end and Dean was dying, but then the seizure stopped and Dean's breathing evened out; it was then that Sam finally noticed that he couldn't hear the screams anymore. Looking up, he found out that the little boy had disappeared.

Turning his attention back to Dean, Sam tried to wake him up; the older hunter was still clearly in pain, his face was flushed and the lines of pain were too deep around his eyes and mouth, but whatever Sam did, nothing seemed to be helping his brother. There was nothing for him to do at that moment, except making Dean comfortable where he was lying and waiting for him to wake up.

"Please, Dean." He begged as he splashed some water on Dean's face.

Nothing happened.

Desperately, Sam grabbed his laptop and books and took them to Dean's side. He needed to find a way to get Dean back and stop this madness for good.

Half an hour later, the unconscious man started to come around with a groan of pain.

"Dean? Hey, hey. You're alright. Come on, open your eyes."

Blinking his eyes, Dean looked around the room with terror, only calming down when he found no traces of D.

"You with me?"

"Man," Dean groaned as he pushed himself up. "I've got one really pissed off inner child."

"Years of suppressed anger would do that to you." Sam voiced his thought, wincing in sympathy with his brother. "Damn, Dean. I think I could shoot Dad if I saw him now."

"Not his fault." Dean sighed, a hand still pressed against his chest. He needed to get to bathroom to wash his face again.

Sam didn't argue, not because he agreed, but because he thought it wasn't right to argue back with Dean when his brother had more important issues on his mind. "What happened?"

"He tried to burn me to ashes and lock me in a dungeon." Dean replied matter of factly.

"What?" Sam gulped. This really could've been it. He could've lost Dean this time. "How did... How did you get out?"

"I don't know, man." Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Guess he calmed down."

"Shit." Sam took a shuddering breath. "Look, I think we'd better not upset him as long as we could."

"You think?" Dean scoffed. "And we didn't even do anything; that kid has some serious issues."

"You got frustrated with him when he complained; and besides, you locked him away for over 20 years, man, what do you expect?"

The look of hurt that crossed Dean's face told Sam that he'd said the wrong thing, making him backtrack quickly. "I'm not saying you did it on purpose or that you had a choice; I'm just saying it's natural for him to be angry."

"Whatever."

"Dean, it's not your fault, you know that, right?"

Dean deliberately ignored that question. "If it's about a sad childhood, then where's _your_ inner child? If anyone should see their inner child around here, it should be you. I don't think it's about what happened to us back then. It must be something else. We're missing something."

"I'm not seeing mine because I _had_ a childhood." Sam pointed out.

"You had a childhood?" Dean sounded incredulous. "You were in this life since you were 6 months old."

"Maybe; but I had a childhood, Dean. You shielded me from everything and even Dad tried to hide things from me for years and even when I found out, you were still there for me and made sure I could have what you didn't. Hell, I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid; you were so grown up even at that age that you carried a gun around and would shoot anyone that didn't seem natural."

"Yeah, good thing that imaginary friend didn't come to me. Who knew it was a real thing?" Dean evaded.

"My point is,-" Sam started but then suddenly stopped.

Dean frowned. "What?" Looking around, he quickly scanned the room, thinking that the boy was back with a new trick.

"That's it!" Sam exclaimed as he went through the pile of books next to him and grabbed an old one. "That's it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You didn't have a proper childhood, Dean. You grew up overnight-"

"Whoa there, wait a second; you're making it sound like I've never had fun. Believe me, I made sure I never stopped having fun."

"What you call fun, which started in your teenage years, is not being a child and you know it." Sam rolled his eyes at what his brother was implying. "Can I continue, please? Thank you." He said without giving Dean a chance to answer. "What I'm saying is that you made sure that I had a childhood, even when I found out about the Supernatural world and despite how hard Dad tried to make me grow up fast; you always managed to give it to me the best way you could, Dean. But you didn't have it, so now your inner child is angry and mine isn't."

Dean tilted his head, not saying anything about how Sam was right or wrong. "We've established that already. What's the point of this conversation exactly?"

Sam continued without acknowledging Dean's statement. "Now, in this book I found how Jonathon must've started this whole thing and what he probably would've wanted to happen."

"Yeah, I've gone through that book." Dean nodded.

"So, you see, he must've wanted to get back what he'd lost."

"And?"

"And he lost himself in it."

"How does that help us?"

"You can't blame the kid or yourself. You just gotta make nice. That's how we can end this." Sam said excitedly.

"What?"

"Embrace your inner child."

Rolling his eyes, Dean growled. "What do you think we've been trying to do these past few days?"

"We've been trying to talk to him to find out what his problem was. But we already know what his problem is. What we haven't tried is placating. Dean, you gotta embrace it, literally."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "You kidding me, right?"

"No. No. Look, if you make nice with it, it'll go back to... Umm, wherever an inner child lives?"

"Inside me?" Dean wrinkled his nose.

"Probably." Sam shrugged.

"And how do you suggest I do that? The kid is pissed off in case you haven't noticed. He'll probably try to burn me alive if I try anything."

"The kid is upset because he's been ignored and neglected for years and now after so many years he's finally been let out of his prison."

"He'd want revenge."

"No. He wouldn't. You just gotta be nicer to him. You're always nice with kids; this isn't any different."

"You saw what it did last time."

"It was because you got frustrated with him and _he_ " Sam emphasized the pronoun, "thought you hated him. You gotta prove to him that you don't. That you love him."

"But I-"

"You do love him. He's you and because he's you, he won't hurt you and he wouldn't want to get revenge."

"You do remember that I'm a 'shoot first, ask question later' type of guy, right?" And if the kid was _his_ inner child, he couldn't be that different.

"Only when you have to." The amount of faith in Sam's voice and eyes didn't leave Dean any way to doubt his brother's theory and words; he was grateful for the faith his brother was showing him.

"And then what? I embrace it and it... _He_ will go away?"

"Yes, I believe that's the way."

"I can't exactly let it rule my life now, so what's the point? I mean shouldn't I mean it if I say I'm gonna be nicer to him?"

"I think the fact that you'll acknowledge him is enough."

"That sounds too easy, Sam; which makes it unlikely to work and you know it."

"Dean, all these texts and books say the same thing about the inner child. You just gotta let him out of that cage that you've built for him. Let him be free."

"And do what? Play around? I already do that." Dean smirked.

"Don't think D is old enough to enjoy your kind of playing around."

"That's the only way I know how to do that! He keeps saying that he wants to play and I'm not gonna play. This is not gonna work."

"He says that because he's a kid; he just wants you to stop ignoring him; to accept his existence."

"You're not gonna make me go to a playground!" Dean growled under his breath.

Sam laughed, "Would be interesting to see you trying to hang from monkey bars."

Making a face, Dean finally got up and went to the bathroom to wash his face. "At least my hair won't get caught in a swing chain." he said and laughed when Sam grimaced and touched his hair involuntarily.

.

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 **TBC**

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 **A/N: I apologize if there's any mistake; they're all mine.  
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	5. Chapter 5

_"Dean, all these texts and books say the same thing about the inner child. You just gotta let him out of that cage that you've built for him. Let him be free. He_ _just wants you to stop ignoring him; to accept his existence."_

* * *

The next time D showed up, Dean was fast asleep and even Sam, who was awake, didn't notice the kid at first. What made him aware of the kid's presence was the fact that Dean's breathing pattern changed and it sounded like he was having difficulty breathing; that was followed by low, guttural moans of pain and distress coming from the still sleeping man. Hearing that, Sam knew either Dean was back in the dungeon with the child or D was back with them and it turned out to be the latter, as he surveyed the room. The child was sitting in a corner, looking burdened and dejected, but he didn't appear mad and he sure wasn't trying to catch their attention. He wasn't even looking at them; with his arms around his knees and his chin on them, his gaze was on the floor and Sam could bet that the kid wasn't even aware of his surroundings.

"Dean!" Sam gently shook his brother awake. "He's here."

Groaning in pain, Dean took a couple of seconds to wake up properly and then turned on his back and sat up gingerly. "Where?" He croaked when he didn't see the child at first glance.

"Behind the table."

Clenching his jaw, Dean mentally prepared himself for doing what Sam thought would solve their problem. "So, just embrace him?"

"Yeah and be a little less awkward." Sam smiled slightly.

"Can't help it. It's weird. And we don't really know that it'll work. For all we know he might just kill me if I touch him." Dean whispered, hoping the child wouldn't hear his words and take that as an invitation.

"He's you." Sam stated, like it'd be enough of explanation and reassurance. He was worried, though; Dean was paler than before and it was clear the heart pain was bothering him more than a few hours ago; it was affecting the older brother so much that it had started to remind Sam of the time that Dean had been electrocuted and had his heart completely damaged.

"Umm, hey kid." Dean said tentatively as he knelt in front of the small child.

The boy didn't do the slightest thing to indicate that he'd heard Dean.

"I... I owe you an apology." Dean said, deciding to start small. "Can you look at me?" He asked; hoping to see a reaction.

The boy's bottom lip started to tremble and a lonely tear fell out of his left eye. Dean's heart clenched in his chest and this time, he wasn't sure if it was the supernatural impact of the upset inner child that had caused the tightness or seeing the profound sadness on the boy's face. Reaching a hand out, he tried to touch the boy, but he shrank back and screamed a loud ' _No'_.

"Hey. Hey! It's alright. Calm down." Dean said through clenched teeth, the level of pain in his chest had suddenly skyrocketed as the boy screamed at him. "I'm sorry." He murmured quietly in order not to spook the kid again. "I'm really really sorry for everything."

The boy's head finally turned towards him and he stared at him while fat tears fell from his eyes at a faster pace. Dean's own face had again traces of blood on it as with each tear that left the boy's eyes, drops of blood would leave the corner of Dean's eyes.

"I never meant to hurt you or imprison you." Dean continued soothingly and thought that Sam had been right, this wasn't much different than dealing with any other kid; the only difference was that now, he had to deal with his own painful memories and disappointments which were deeply buried and had never been touched by him. In a way, facing them was the actual hard part and maybe that was the key to fix that whole mess; maybe if he finally acknowledged those painful memories, even a little, then the kid would let go of the festering anger and they could all go on their merry way.

"But you did. I just wanna play." The kid sobbed quietly. "I don't wanna be alone."

"I know. I know. But it wasn't my intention. I _had to_ grow up fast. I didn't have a choice." He muttered painfully, and then tried to touch the boy again.

The boy recoiled from his touch and looked at him angrily.

Against his will, Dean moaned in pain and doubled over.

Sam couldn't take it anymore; he had to do something; so, quietly sitting by his brother's side, he rubbed his back. "Dean?"

"'M OK." Dean gritted out unconvincingly.

"D." Sam turned his gaze to the child. "It really wasn't his fault. You can't be mad at him. If anything, it was my fault."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean growled; he didn't want to risk it in case the child was more powerful that he's shown so far; who knew what he could do to Sam if he decided that Sam was to blame for all his misery.

"What?" Sam asked defiantly. "It was. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have been forced to push back your own needs and desires as a kid."

"That had nothing to do with you."

"Yes it did. You did it because you had to take care of me. You had to act as my father because our real father suddenly couldn't be bothered with his duties as one." Sam spat angrily. "You know what, it's Dad's fault. It's all his fault. He made you stop being a child. You had to take care of me and Dad when you were a little kid yourself and needed someone to take care of you."

"Sam!" Dean called with a warning; "I _saw_ what happened to Mom. Even if Dad hadn't made me do the things that he did and even if I didn't have you to take care of, I still would've become this; I lost my innocence in that fire."

"Many kids experience traumatic incidents in their childhood, Dean, but most of them recover. They don't have to bury their inner child and become a man at 4."

A sob left the child's mouth and the grown-ups realized that they had forgotten about him. Dean's own chest flared with pain and he felt dizzy.

Sam saw it and quickly turned to the boy. "Please. You need to forgive him. It wasn't his fault."

D just stared at him with trembling chin, and then his gaze went to Dean.

Sam nudged his brother to make him try touching D again and biting his lip, Dean pushed himself forward.

"I really am sorry, kid." He said quietly and cautiously touched the boy's shoulder. This time the boy didn't back off, so Dean moved closer. "I know it's too little, too late. But I am and..." He swallowed, "I don't know how I can help you really. I just know that I don't want to see you sad."

"Don't put me in that dungeon again." The boy said in a small voice. "It's scary... and dark." he added with a shudder.

"I promise." Dean replied without missing a beat. "I'm sorry for the past." He muttered as the painful moments of his childhood flashed through his mind; memories that he'd ignored for ages and had even convinced himself that he'd forgotten about them; but they were all there and deep down he'd always known it was impossible to forget those fearful nights, painful days, hurtful words and lonely years. The touch had broken the dam and it was like Dean could feel the pain and burden on the boy's little heart and shoulders; the pain which was way too familiar and he knew only too well what had caused it and how after the fire and since his father got obsessed with the supernatural world the pain got worse and the loneliness grew inside him; he was bombarded with the memories of long days and longer nights when he'd felt terrified and lonely but had put a strong face on, hiding his fears to make sure his brother felt safe and as years went by he stopped acknowledging his fears and needs because he found it easier to fool even himself than waiting for someone to help him; and at that moment he realized what the kid in his arm really meant when he said he'd imprisoned him.

The boy's eyes were filled with tears, but when Dean pulled him into a hug, he didn't protest and he didn't sob. He just let go; his small frame was lost in Dean's arms and once his face touched Dean's chest, Dean felt like he'd been electrocuted again. As pain flared up in his chest, a sudden light flashed in the room and engulfed Dean as the boy disappeared in Dean's embrace. Moments later, Dean's boneless body collapsed to the floor.

"Dean." Sam called worriedly as he grabbed his brother's shoulders, shaking him frantically. "Come on, Man. Open your eyes." He felt frozen and scared, what if he had been wrong? What if this led Dean to his death? But then he noticed Dean's wheezing as he breathed in and out and finally the younger man sighed with relief. Dean was alive and the child was gone. At least for now. He had to wait for Dean to wake up and see if he felt any different.

Meanwhile, he took the talisman that they'd found in Jonathon Crane's box and put it in the sink, pouring salt and gas on it and then set fire to it.

Both brothers had decided to keep the talisman safe until they had resolved the problem with the child, because while in some texts it was mentioned that burning the object solved the problem and got rid of the inner child and no other child would show up around the place where the talisman existed, it was also mentioned that the current victim always died along with their inner child.

Once the magical object caught fire, Dean gasped loudly and opened his eyes.

"Whoa. Dean? You OK?" Once again, Sam rushed to his brother's side and helped him to sit up.

Grimacing, Dean nodded. "Is he gone?"

"Yes, it's over." Sam smiled. "I just burned the charm and you're alive. It's really over."

"Good. Good." Dean sighed and pushed himself up. "This was one creepy case." He said and tried not to show he was still affected by the memories that had rushed through his head before losing consciousness.

"Tell me about it." Sam said sympathetically. "What do we say to the sheriff and Crane's friends?"

Dean, who was still not fully recovered, shook his head tiredly. "Don't know. Just tell them we got a lead in another town and let's get the hell outta here."

That sounded perfect to Sam. "Yeah, OK."

"We sure something like this won't happen again?"

"The spell Crane had used was bound to the charm. Without it, everything is back to normal."

"Then let's hit the road."

"You sure you're ready? You still look kinda pale."

"My heart was being squeezed in my chest; I'd say it takes a while before my colors get back to normal after something like that." Dean pointed out with a scorn.

"Maybe we should see a doctor?" Sam sounded worried. "What if it'd caused lasting damage?"

"Sam, I just wanna leave this hell hole and go home. We'll think about it if my heart stops later."

"This is not a joke, Dean."

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Dean sighed, "My heart is not gonna stop, Sammy. I'm fine."

"But will you see a doctor if you don't feel better soon?" Sam asked, sounding like the worried little brother he was.

"Fine."

"OK."

"OK."

"So, back to the bunker?"

"You have anywhere else on mind?"

"We could always go to the playground. You've promised D, remember?"

" _D_ is perfectly happy with the current status quo. Don't put what you long to do on him." Dean scoffed; feeling a stab of pain as he remembered the kid in his arms.

Sam laughed with delight. "I'm just saying."

"And if you don't stop, you're gonna find your own way back to the bunker."

Sam suddenly got serious and stopped his brother in the middle of packing his stuff. "It wasn't your fault, Dean. You believe that, now. Don't you?"

Dean clenched his fist and turned his gaze to his brother. "It kinda was." He smiled weakly.

"You said it yourself; you didn't have a choice."

"And as you said, many kids go through shit in their childhood but they don't all become like me."

"Nothing's wrong with you." Sam stated firmly. "And, none of those children I talked about go through what you did and they are never left with the responsibility of a family."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. The case is solved and it's not like anyone got hurt."

" _You_ got hurt." Sam frowned.

"I'm better already."

"Not talking about now." Sam looked Dean straight in the eyes; despite Dean's effort he could see the sadness in his eyes. "You got hurt because of what Dad did and you sacrificed your desires and your childhood for us. You went through so much and you never let anyone see the pain. I... Thanks."

"It wasn't like that and you know it. Now stop." Dean looked away and busied himself with gathering his stuff from around the room; yes, he'd promised D not to send him back to that dungeon; he'd think about his past and he wouldn't try to pretend he'd had a normal childhood, anymore; heck, he'd curse his dad in his head and stay mad at him for what he'd done; because he might've thought it cool to hold a gun at age 10 when he'd been a kid, but even then he knew he'd needed something else and had only survived by focusing on everyone else's needs; but none of those meant he'd have chick flick moments with his brother now; he hadn't promised to talk about his feelings and pains out loud.

"No, Dean. I mean it. Thanks. And I'm sorry for being part of the reason you had to grow up so fast and for forgetting how hard things have been for you and for always complaining about what _I_ have lost."

"OK, Sam. Seriously. That's enough."

"Thanks, Dean." Sam repeated stubbornly.

"Jesus, Sam. You're such a sap. Can we hit the road now?" Dean said gruffly; but the slight smile at the corner of his mouth and the affectionate look in his eyes told Sam that he'd heard him and was grateful for the heartfelt words.

Rolling his eyes with a smile of his own, Sam sighed, "One thing's clear. You're never gonna get better at emotional stuff."

"That's because I'm a man." Dean growled. "Unlike you. Samantha!"

It'd been years since Dean had called him that and strangely it made Sam laugh mirthfully. There was a day that despite everything, Dean still tried to be as carefree as possible and Sam missed those days, because at least then Dean still had the energy for that; nevertheless he was thankful that he still had his brother by his side and he was glad that Dean was still so strong. Dean really was his rock and Sam knew for sure that absolutely no one else'd be able to endure those kind of experiences and still stand straight like Dean could; Dean was the strongest man Sam knew and he also knew that he was his brother's only weak spot; so, the least he could do was to keep doing what he'd started a while back for good; be actually there for Dean and show he cared, too; show him that he, too, would be lost without his brother and that he depended on Dean way more than Dean depended on him. That way, Dean would always remain strong. They _both_ would always remain strong. Nothing could get to them as long as they were truly together.

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 **FINI!**

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 _ **A/N: Let me know what you think?**_

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 **I don't own the show and its characters and all mistakes are mine.**


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